Biology

Chapter 15

For just a second when North ordered him out, Hiccup looked as if he was going to decline. His jaw tightened and his eyes hardened for a breath—but then he glanced back toward Jack, who was looking desperate and panicked, and decided that he didn't want to make it worse for the other boy.

So instead of fighting back, he just silently descended the stairs, North following close behind him, and went to the door. Once there he paused with his hand on the knob just long enough to look back at Jack once more—and then pulled the door open and left the house, closing it behind himself with a soft click.

Jack watched, stricken, his heart in his throat. He had paused halfway down the staircase, one hand clenching so hard on the banister that his nails dug in and his knuckles were white.

Down in the entryway, his father stared at the closed door for a long moment before he spoke. "Jack."

He flinched and swallowed. "Dad—"

"Get down here."

"Dad, I—"

"Now, Jack."

Jack pried his hand away from the banister rail with some difficulty and walked the last few steps down until he was on the same level ground as North. He hesitated then, shifting from one foot to the other.

After a moment, North turned around to face him, expression stony. His eyes surveyed Jack and he frowned even more. "Fix your clothes."

He looked down at himself, dismayed to find his clothing in disarray, and set about straightening it under his father's watchful gaze, pulling his shirt down and smoothing at it anxiously, then tugging at his collar in an absent and useless bid to hide some of the dark purple-and-red hickeys that marred his neck.

"Is he the one you were with today?"

"Dad, listen, I can explain—"

But North held a hand up, stopping him from continuing, and pointed a finger for emphasis. "Is he the one you cut school with today, Jack?"

"...yes."

"And you came home with those—marks."

"...yes."

North's lips pressed together in a hard line. "And before, when you missed some classes?"

"...yes."

"This whole last week and a half, that too?"

"I—" Jack looked down, one hand coming up to rub against the opposite arm nervously. He swallowed and nodded a little. "We—there was a misunderstanding. We got into a fight... sort of."

"How long has this been going on? How long has he been sneaking into the house?"

"...a... a while..."

"Behind my back, Jack?"

A hardly-audible reply: "I'm—I'm sorry, Dad."

There was a long silence then, Jack still looking down at the ground determinedly and North just looking at him without a word, expression stony and serious. He seemed to be thinking over what he had just seen and heard. Eventually, Jack let his eyes hesitantly flick upward—then down again quickly when he saw the look on his father's face. Anger and disappointment.

"This..." He started tentatively, voice barely a whisper. His glasses began to slip down his nose but he didn't bother to fix them. "This isn't how I wanted you to find out..."

North didn't say anything to that, just continued looking at him for another long few minutes. Jack's grip on his own arm tightened, fingers digging in until it was almost painful. Eventually, though, North spoke again, his tone flat and serious, begging no argument from the boy in front of him.